12 Comments

I love your stories, Sam.

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Thank you Portia! Appreciate it so much.

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What a strange and lovely morning read

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Thank you Tom!

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I am thinking about the gender of a woman or a man named Ma- Maurine? Who I have fascination with , who made the hard-words jokes at a pride party pop up I was lucky enough to be asked to take a load off. Now, they she in her costume of cotton would mercifully stop me from doing what my words do- what is kill mysteries.

The limit that was crossed was that Zappata was not eating aright at that time. But in our time, I think we thank your generation for the Giulietta here. Lucie is eating properly, and so, as she knows the greasiness that rides in on the coats of our friends in food- confusions, is amenable to haircutting .

Here is how limited it was to 'draw the hard lines' , the way that judgement by words will forever do: I have wanted to say that love is plaintive lately, which plays in my mind as a complaint, because Shakespeare's 'plaints' are complaints, and because I am idly throwing words at lovers lately, in my solitude. But look at how wrong that buggy etymology shows up. Lucie has her needs met, and like I said: your generation's years of tolerating each others' egg on their faces, makes her a formidable character.

Her I will revisit in mind. He is real, she is a character, but the idea of her. That was if women continue to have a room of one's own and If in the event of the near future her room continues sans hall monitors, - then as long as I myself donot discover I acquired a concierge, I will think of Lucie.

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That's a beautiful idea Nathan - the tolerance of others' egg on their faces. Yes, things are better without concierges!

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I thought so but needed to ask a traveller. They were reliable, like a family could leave the kid for the concierge to police we think, in the 50’s maybe. But Lucie’s flow would have been polluted if she was being talked abt. If her friends made a stink she would have acted brusque with her boy

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Reading this I could smell that unique blend of air conditioner exhaust and tarmac steam that scents New York City’s summer streets.

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Haha! Thank you Monica!

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Sorry - autocorrect. Thank you Monnina!

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I think you're very talented

Thank you for the story

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Thank you so much Chen. Really appreciate it.

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